


Below

by Macx



Series: The Post War Arc [5]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-04
Updated: 2011-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-20 03:23:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cybertron is struggling to rebuild what has been destroyed. New living space has to be found to accommodate not only Cybertronian survivors but also refugees from the Game. But what can you do if the enemy is among you and knows your world better than you do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Below

**Author's Note:**

> this story runs parallel with Horizon

  
The planet was one of the more stranger ones, not born out of a cooling mass of molten, super-heated stone but out of the brains of alien creatures known as Quintessons. Its heart wasn't a liquid core of still boiling natural energy but metal. Artificial and cool. The surface was a thin metal skin stretched over a support structure that was crisscrossed by tunnels and corridors, honeycombed by rooms, chambers and storage areas, large empty spaces dominating one sector, another packed full of machinery. It was not of a natural origin. It had been built. It was an artificial world.  
It was Cybertron.  
The planet was millions of years old and had brought forth its own races, civilizations, empires and wars. It had changed profoundly from the world it had been at its birth to what it was now. War had changed it most visibly. The silver skin that was its surface was scarred by these wars, changed forever, some damage irreparable even if the surface wounds were now closed. The most southern area, the South Continent, was no more. A deep, ragged hole resided where once smooth surface had been. Blackened and charred, it was a witness and silent reminder of the climatic battle for the planet's survival, as well as that of its inhabitants.  
Circled by only one artificial moon, the planet Cybertron had no sun, called no planetary system its home. It was a lonely world, a world of artificial life. Once a factory for robot servants and slaves it had grown into its own, independent planet but wars had never allowed many trade alliances to foster and bloom. Few alien races knew a lot about these giant alien machines, the Cybertronians. A robot race. Always fighting each other. That was common knowledge. But who were they? What were their motives? What was the foundation of their civilization? What made them tick? These questions had long gone unanswered, even by the Cybertronians themselves. The last war had brought them back their history and origin, had shown them where they had come from had shocked and woken them out of their petty Civil War. It had forged the two factions into one against an enemy much larger than them, had given them hope .... and had somehow let them survive.  
Survival.  
It was the foremost thought on their minds. The war was over but the real battle had only just started.... the battle to make it through each day. With the destruction of South Continent, a lot had been destroyed as well.  
Vector Sigma, the super computer that had given them all life in the past, had died as well. The unborn personality cores were safely stowed in two large stasis fields. Their survival had been taken care of, though it was still likely that once in a while one had to be prematurely born into a new body, even though this was the worst time for a new Cybertronian to join the ranks of his or her comrades. With a lack of material to even rebuild what had been destroyed planet-wise, where should they take the body shells? The answer had been Protogen.  
Protogen was a new way to create body shells, but also a rather unexplored one. Scientist were doing their best to understand Protogen but since it had never been developed by them in the first place, it was hard to understand it all. It worked, it provided the personality core with a shell, and that was about all they understood. The Protogen data had been found in ancient files of their true creators, the Veneran, and the scientists had reached for this small hope and simply done what had been described in the files.  
The result was a new life form, half Cybertronian, half something else -- a mystery that needed to be explored.  
With the destruction of Vector Sigma, a lot of knowledge had been lost, as well as a controlling central processor for many things concerning Cybertron. No one had ever caught a look behind the scenes as to what Vector Sigma was really doing, even when he appeared inactive. Now they knew.  
And then there was the loss of Ralyk.  
The ancient, even more mysterious entity had changed Cybertron in subtle ways, had given its life forms the tools to start all over again, make it better, but those tools came without a manual. Every day new variations to the theme were discovered and old theories had to be cast away. It was a trial and error run and sometimes it was frustrating.

 

The overhead fluorescent lights flickered once, twice, then there was a snapping shriek of an electrical discharge and the lights popped out and died. The communications console gave a squelch of static, then fell silent as well. The computer screens winked out, the whole system crashing.  
"Ah, no!" A string of unprintable curses followed the exclamation.  
Pipes looked around in the total darkness and counted. His blue optics were the only source of light anywhere. When he reached 'five', the back-ups sputtered into life. The scientist refrained from hitting the small work station in front of him with his fists and simply gave a heart-felt sigh.  
"What happened?" a disembodied voice asked.  
"Power disruption," he answered without even looking around for the speaker and tried to access the power controls.  
Someone appeared beside him and he tried not to flinch. He hated it when she did that! Couldn't this female make at least some noise?!  
Riverdance surveyed the dark room and shrugged. This hadn't been the first time and it wouldn't be the last. Their power problems had been worse before, she knew, and that the back-ups had actually started was a positive sign. Last week they had fumbled around in the blackness of power loss for the broken and burned-to-crisp relay. Riverdance could see perfectly in the dark, but most of the scientists here couldn't and getting night-vision goggles was impossible. She had already considered hunting for some of them in old bases and storage rooms.  
"Can you fix it?" she asked rather super-fluously.  
"For the time being, yes. I wish I could get my hands on the ordered XD-IV transmitter chips, the Tenatron diodes and the Erson screens. If I had them I'm positive that the power control system would be up and running perfectly in the next 48 hours." Pipes gave her a wry smile as he looked up. "As perfectly as I can make it, that is."  
Riverdance nodded. They had asked for supplies but what they were getting was a meager selection of what they needed. She knew that the people Topside and the commanders Below were working on this, giving Below priority, but it was still not enough. Supplies were coming in, yes, but too slowly. It was a well-known problem. Com links broke down, supplies came in randomly or not at all ... they were used to it. They had to live with it for now because their situation was by far better than Topside. And that showed just how badly Cybertron was struggling to come out of shock.  
The door opened and Jazz stuck his head in. "Guys, how ya coming along?"  
Pipes grumbled something under his breath and Jazz got the deeper meaning. Riverdance walked over to the Autobot and pulled him with her out of the room.  
"Do you have a list of all the emergency stuff we need?" she asked.  
Jazz nodded. "Sure, but there is no way we can ...."  
She held up a hand. "Don't plan anything for tonight, Autobot, we are going shopping."  
Jazz blinked. "Shopping? Where?"  
Riverdance smiled, revealing a pair of fangs she even had in robot mode. "You'll see."

* * *

It was a maze in every sense of the word. He was standing on a catwalk, suspended high in the air, overlooking a good part of the room. Hound shone his flashlight down and the beam glowed through several dozen feet of darkness before it splashed on the metal ground below.  
"What's this called?" he asked his companion.  
Surrounding them, dimly visible in the darkness, was a dense network of struts and girders. It looked a bit like an Earth oil refinery. There was a haze in the metallic tasting air, a faintly oily feeling to it all. The metal girders seemed to be coated with some kind of oil but when Hound touched it, the strange substance didn't come off. It was like paint or something.  
"I call it the Darkroom," IceAngel answered, shining her light beam over the structure as well, her voice echoing in the cavernous darkness. "All power lines to this place are cut and no surveillance cameras work, though there are guard and security drones still active. I used them to get an impression of the Darkroom. There is nothing working down there."  
"Any idea what it once was?"  
"No, but my best guess is a factory of some kind."  
Hound let his optics roam over the forest of pipes and beams. "It would be great to know. Think we can find salvageable material down there? If it was a factory there might be some raw material left."  
"Possible," the guardian of the Inner Maze said, tilting her head, "though you have to see things first to find them. I'll use the droids to get us some samples."  
"Thank you."

* * *

"What's the latest on the refugees?"  
Ultra Magnus pursed his lips and weighed his answer carefully. "We finally have Below divided into city blocks and the construction is going on non-stop. Living quarters are now fully equipped, at least with the necessary. Supplies are still coming in rather randomly, but we manage. Shockwave is working on the problem."  
Optimus Prime, Autobot leader and member of the Council, nodded. Choosing Ultra Magnus as the officer in charge had been his decision, just like teaming him up with someone else, even if it was a Decepticon, who had an idea how to run large cities and populations -- Shockwave. Both Cybertronians knew what had to be done. Their relentless efforts to get the survivors and refugees down into Below and retrieve salvageable and recyclable material out of the ruins of the Inner Maze City had yielded amazing results.  
They were backed up by a team of engineers both Cybertronian and human who had devised a net of squares and coordinates nearly over-night that gave them a better way to overview reconstruction or demolition. IceAngel had pointed them into the right direction concerning salvageable stuff and it was amazing what was hidden in the Maze. Optimus sometimes wished he had the manpower to host several exploration teams, but he had to set priorities. Everything that could be used was used and what had no immediate use per se was stored for later recycling.  
There had been too many acts of individual valor to count or to keep track of. Everyone was helping. The refugees from the game planet were throwing in their weight as well, insisting to help in return for the help they had been given. Some had decided to stay here for a while until they had sorted out their lives and Optimus had accepted it. Their help was very much appreciated.  
Environmental control was a main problem, the engineers racking their brains on how to solve the long-term problems of housing so many organic and robotic life forms underground. They had finally opted on installing a vast recycling system and the environmental control units as integrated parts of the city, not as a separate unit somewhere else. A far-reaching light system had been set up, powered from one of the many unearthed back-up generators. No one had any clue as to how many of those back-ups existed. Ralyk had installed them, filling them with spare energy and now they came quite in handy.  
The engineering section was a hive of activity, even worse than at the time they had built West Central. Every available engineer, tech, scientist and specialist was working double or triple shifts. Since Optimus had also decided to install one of the two Containment Units with the personality cores down here, the challenges had tripled. Optimus looked at all the activity and finally nodded.  
"You're doing good work here, Magnus."  
"We all do, Optimus," Ultra Magnus corrected him. "Without so much support from everyone involved, regardless of race or faction, you'd be looking at a wasteland."  
Prime smiled slightly. Typically Ultra Magnus. "I know."  
The city planners had worked out many problems but for each problem solved, many more popped up. Since West Central was unable to take the over fourhundred refugees from the game planet, they had been relocated. That meant living quarters somewhere and it had taken non-stop working and construction to give each person their private quarters. Current food and water rationing was accepted as part of the routine until supplies could be run frequently and regularly. Wild Card was doing his best with the supply runs from other planets, but no one had ever thought about having so much additional organic life to sustain. Energon was no problem; humanoid food was.  
"Keep me posted," he now said and Magnus nodded, already busy with a new problem.  
Optimus left quietly. He still had an appointment with the mayor of the human twin city of Strata-Mainframe. He had been only mildly surprised when he had heard about the names. Humans tended to somehow always name things right one way or the other. Mainframe was the business district that also housed the space port, while Strata was a glittering world of human dreams but also represented the living area and suburbs.  
As he drove over to the cities he had to marvel at human persistency and stamina. The people living here had fled from Earth, though not because they had been forced to but because they had wanted to. They had taken the opportunity to work on Cybertron without fearing the repercussions they had had to suffer on Earth and they had constructed amazing things. Before the separation from Earth, Cybertron had hosted a small, rather shabby city with a mediocre mall and some living areas. There had been no need for wide variety entertainment or restaurants of a better style, because humans worked on Cybertron and lived in their homes on Earth. All that had changed dramatically throughout the last decades, starting with a vengeance when Earth had harassed those working with or for Cybertron.  
The Autobot leader slowed down as he entered Strata's entertainment and shopping area. The main street was broad and busy. Everything looked like someone had taken a human city and relocated it to Cybertron. Tall buildings reached into the sky, throngs of people moved on the sidewalks. There were street signs, lamp posts, marquees, even post boxes. Restaurants, motels, hotels, barber's shops, bars, bistros, arcades, shopping malls and more flashed their signs. The cities were outfitted with a tube and lift system, a monorail and electric cars and trucks, several movie theaters, a school and even an amphitheater, as well as a radio station.  
A hydroponics team had been called into life, trying to do what no one had tried before: planting trees and shrubs. Some engineers had managed to create small parks including hills and ponds. The plant life was flourishing, though it needed attention, and the team had high hopes to introduce vegetables grown on Cybertron soon.  
Optimus passed several more public buildings and finally arrived at the city hall, which had been built that both humans and Cybertronians could use it. He nodded a greeting at some Autobots and entered. He was already expected.  
Mayor Francine Woodward smiled at the giant robot. "Welcome to Strata-Mainframe, Optimus Prime," she greeted him.  
"Thank you, Mayor Woodward. I can see you did a lot since the last time I came here."  
The dark-haired woman nodded. She was in her late forties and had been what could be called a pro-forma mayor when Strata had been nothing but a worker's living quarters and settlement without a name and particular function. She had thrown all her weight into rebuilding this 'camp', as she had called it, into a real city. For months it had looked like a gigantic waste dump, enormous power conduits lying open, pipes getting rerouted and rebuilt, buildings rising into the sky, their size trying to compensate for both humans and robots alike. Mainframe had been built and the scientists, engineers and techs had moved in, their families residing in Strata, which was like a support feed for the other city, feeding, housing, educating and entertaining the human population of Cybertron. Woodward was proud of what she had achieved and she could be  
Optimus Prime cherished her expertise as a leader as well as a scientist. Woodward was a former construction engineer, an architect more to the point. She had designed and built everything from bridges to skyscrapers to simple family homes, and her knowledge of these vital things had brought her the necessary support from the humans. They knew that their leader was someone who understood what was going on and not some political egg-head out for more votes. She had won re-election hands down.  
"Yes," she now said and her smile grew even prouder. "We just finished the amphitheater and we have planned a small game of football soon. I have to thank your people as well, Prime. Your support is marvelous."  
Optimus felt a bit embarrassed. "It's the least we could do after all that happened."  
"Nonsense!" The woman shook her head. "We went through this before and I'm telling you no one blames any of you! We came here on our free will. Everyone knew the risks and dangers."  
"Yes, but still...."  
"Oh, Optimus, please, don't try and warm that old argument up again!" Woodward smiled. "We have other problems."  
Prime nodded. Yes, they had other problems but he doubted they would weigh this woman and the people of Strata-Mainframe down. He knew that for a long time after the last disaster the mayor, and he himself as well, had feared that one day the human population on Cybertron would wake from the shock of the past experiences and they would have a mass riot on their hands, but nothing of the like had happened. For Optimus it was another indicator how inure the humans had grown to tragedy, how strong they were in taking falls and how stubborn they showed themselves when it came to rebuilding the destroyed. Those times more than anything also showed him that humans were not just a race of 'squishies', of a lower organic origin, as many Decepticons had seen and still saw them. They were robust, they were adaptable and they were inventive. Having humans as enemies was a thought he didn't want to entertain. You had to reckon with humans and not ignore them. He was glad he could call these humans his friends.  
"You are right," he acknowledged.  
They then went over to discussing some day-to-day problems, schedules and more. As much as this seemed petty stuff to some Cybertronians because it concerned humans, Optimus took it all seriously. The twin city had become part of Cybertron and as such it demanded his attention. He was ready to give it as much as it needed.

* * *

Jazz shook his head, wishing he had never volunteered for this. Then again, he had been volunteered by Riverdance and saying no to the Decepticon female was the best way to get gutted. And he had to confess he liked her style of handling problems, though he could have thought of better places to display this style.  
Standing in a dark and cramped warehouse on a planet he would never voluntarily set a foot on, he felt far from save. Looking at the aliens around him didn't help him feel any better. They were organics, he had discovered, despite their heavy armor or cloaks covering their bodies from prying eyes. And they were traders – which was a nicer way of saying they were pirates. They were Grak'kxians, a rather well-known race of trade-happy people with a dark side: their raiders. Getting to the planet without losing your whole cargo was a miracle. And getting off the planet with your purchase or profit was another challenge. If you paid the pirates you had a safe flight, but their rates were horrendous.  
And now they were here.  
Jazz sighed.  
Riverdance was currently talking in a low voice with what had to be the chief pirate and from her expression she was not amused. Finally the Grak'kxian made a clicking, hissing noise and gestured sharply. Riverdance smiled, bowed slightly – without ever leaving the Grak'kxian out of her optics – and walked back to Jazz.  
"We have a deal."  
He looked uneasily at the aliens. "And you think we can leave here with all our circuit boards and without losing our cargo to his friends?"  
The female Decepticon smiled coldly. "If he knows what's good for him."  
"Ah."  
Jazz felt a shiver run down his central processor. Riverdance rarely made threats but those she made had to be taken seriously.  
"You know him?"  
"Let's say we .... are acquainted."  
Jazz wondered if he should dig deeper and then decided not to. Knowing too much about Riverdance's past could result in nightmares. Chromia had once mentioned a few facts about her friend and Jazz had felt decidedly sick afterwards. He was glad the Decepticon was on their side!

* * *

It was always an impressive sight and every visitor had remarked on it, though there were few of those. Only high-security access cards allowed entrance into this special room and of those there were few. First Aid and Perceptor held them and they were also the ones who had constructed the impressive piece of work.  
The room was not very large, but it was large enough to easily fit the 'Containment Unit', as the silver, perfectly polished sphere was called. The sphere had no markings of any kind, appearing totally smooth at first sight. First Aid moved around it, seeing himself reflected in the polished metal. There was an odd shifting iridescence, faint rainbow hues of blue and red and green, gleaming in the metal. Someone had once jokingly remarked that the Unit looked like an oversized Christmas ornament. The material of the sphere was not unlike the Protogen metal, though it was missing the 'ants'.  
As the medic reached the far side, the one not visible upon entering the room, he was faced by a series of deep, convoluted grooves, creating an intricate pattern on the otherwise smooth surface. Now he touched some of the grooves and they glowed once, then there was a soft hissing sound and a part of the metal surface slid open, revealing a rather normal looking access panel. First Aid keyed in the access code and the display screen lit up.

DO YOU WANT TO RUN A SELF CHECK?

He pushed 'Yes'. Rows upon rows of numbers appeared. When the check was done, First Aid nodded.  
"All systems are green," he told Perceptor. "We can boot the main system and connect the Unit to the power core."  
The Containment Unit, like the one Topside, was connected to its own power supply, also fitted with a back-up system in case of a failure.  
Now Perceptor walked over to another hidden panel in the wall and began a complicated looking programming sequence. First Aid contacted Disaster in the meantime, telling him that they were about to go on-line.  
"We'll monitor you," was the reply.  
"Thank you. First Aid out."  
The medic left the channel open for monitoring and then joined Perceptor in getting the main system up.

* * *

Jazz stood beside a heavy-load truck, smiling broadly at the approaching figure of Ultra Magnus who seemed to have emerged from somewhere deep in the Maze from the looks of it. There were some spots of dirt on his body. Like everyone he was busy with repairs, inspecting the progress or helping out if necessary. He lived by the saying of being exemplary to the team. Right now Magnus wore a frown that was a mixture of surprise and some worry.  
"Jazz?"  
The Autobot specialist beamed at him. "Yes, Commander?"  
Magnus looked over to the truck, which was being unloaded by half of the small crew responsible for supply distribution and storage. He saw a lot of stuff pass by which he recognized as boxes full of rather non-standard computer parts. The markings on the box were not Cybertronian..... and they had a bit of a banged up look to them.  
"It was a good night to go shopping," Jazz grinned at Ultra Magnus' scowl when the commander didn't say a thing.  
"I can see that," Magnus said slowly. "Where did this stuff come from?"  
"Grak'kx."  
Magnus' optics widened. "What?!" he hissed, trying to keep his voice down. "Jazz, are you insane?! You flew to Grak'kx and dealt with those pirates?!"  
"Uhm...."  
"No, I did," a new voice said and Riverdance stepped around the truck, playing with something Magnus couldn't identify. "It was my plan, commander, and I take full responsibility for it." She tossed him the metal object.  
Ultra Magnus caught it and stared. "That's...."  
"A circulator control based on liquid crystal," she said with a barely visible, slightly sarcastic smile.  
"I won't ask what they wanted in return. I think I don't want to know," Magnus mumbled and handed the precious control to one of the technicians walking by with another box of things he didn't want to know about either. He caught a glimpse of something suspiciously looking like night vision gear......  
Riverdance's smile stayed the same. "Believe me, you don't." With that she walked off.  
"What a woman," Jazz said appreciatively.  
Ultra Magnus only shot him a dark look.

* * *

Dana Janine Witwicky was one of the many humans Below. Unlike her parents and grandparents she had not gone into the diplomatic/bureaucracy branch but more into the 'hands-on' one. DJ was a designer, an architect, and when she had heard about the whole Below project, she had been instantly taken by the idea. She had first worked on the twin town project, but she liked to design grand style and Grapple had been surprised by her approach to some problems. DJ was not the head of any project, just doing the assistant work job, but her opinion was valued by the large Autobot and he helped her transform a theoretic idea into reality most of the time. Right now her main problem was getting the crew and living quarters into shape. The current ones where functional but missed the general feel of a new home. The living quarters were heavily insulated against the cold outside: carpeted floor, walls and ceilings covered in soft padded foam. Despite the bright colors and careful decorations it still looked cramped and dreary to her eyes. Below was not seen as a temporary solution. Optimus Prime had made clear that it was to be a permanent new home for the evacuees who choose not to settle down on of the other continents. Since the state Topside was in no way better than Below, DJ knew that their efforts were appreciated by the mixed population.  
Leaving the crew quarters she entered a vast area of narrow walkways set out between great sealed compartments that stretched ahead as far as she could see. It looked like a giant baby had thrown its Lego stones around and then left them. The compartments were storage bays of immense size, well, for a human, labs, engineering facilities, homes and more. She passed by one of the open bays where workers were busy hauling heavy crates out or in, loading containers onto trucks and shipping them off to those places they were needed.  
DJ had yet to really understand the true size of the Inner Maze, This was just a small part, the part that had been deemed livable and safe, and when she had talked to IceAngel, the guardian, once she had found out that there were vast areas of unexplored space out there. IceAngel was able to access the security systems everywhere in the Maze and she had a pretty good idea what was out there concerning size, but no one had the time to really explore the secrets of Cybertron. And DJ had no time to ponder this. She wasn't an explorer, though naturally curious, and her job was taking up most of her waking time anyway.  
Taking one of the walkways past the dozens of identical storage bays, some in a really bad shape and empty, she came to a new section, the real Below. A growing, bustling chaotic network of different-sized structures. To an outsider it would appear totally without system, but DJ had spent the last year and half here and she knew Below inside out. She jumped off the walkway, greeted some co-workers, both Cybertronian and human, then entered a building.  
"Hey, Geoff, how's it going today?" she called a greeting to one of the Habitat Control Engineers.  
Geoffrey Asbury only grimaced and waved dismissively.  
"They had a major power failure and some of the alien races residing in Habitat 2C are experiencing problems in their quarters," someone explained. It was Beth Levine, one of the Electronics Techs. She was getting ready to leave for her trip to the problem areas.  
"Oh, gee, not again," DJ muttered.  
Beth shrugged. "Whoever said rebuilding a world is fun?"  
DJ grimaced, got herself a cup of her favorite Cinnamon tea, something people liked to tease her with, and studied the latest reports. Reconstruction was proceeding but work was slowed down by missing supplies. They had too much of one and not enough of the next.  
"Didn't find your brush today?" someone mocked.  
She looked up and at James Jennings, one of the engineers who regularly hung out around here. DJ liked to feature a bit of a wild hairstyle, her short her looking unruly and truly like she had not introduced it to a brush. She kept the bangs out of her face using a bandanna. It fit her whole outfit, which reflected her personality.  
"I think it was hiding," she quipped.  
"Yeah, because it's afraid to face this mop of what you call hair."  
She stuck out her tongue.  
"Oh, therrre you arrrre, DeeShay!"  
She smiled as she came face to face with one of those aliens rescued from a freak game planet or whatever it had been. DJ had read the report but had never delved deeper. There were need-to-know facts and she knew them.  
"Hi, Meuv. How are you?"  
"Looking forrrr you," the alien replied, bopping his bug-eyed head.  
No-one knew where Meuv came from, least of all Meuv himself. He had been woken from the game and had remembered nothing of his origin or people. They had pain-stakingly puzzled together that he must have been kidnapped seven hundred Standard years ago and the amnesia was either self-induced, a way to help himself through this experience, or the machine had malfunctioned and had erased his memories for real when entering him over and over again into those virtual reality games. But Meuv had all his old abilities, one of them an incredible understanding of everything metal. DJ had found him to be a valuable assistant when trying to find a way to keep the old structure alive while simultaneously working on introducing a new Habitat.  
"Been here long?" she asked and emptied her cup.  
"Five hourrrrrs."  
DJ grimaced. Meuv needed very little sleep and had enough energy for the two of them. "Okay, what's the latest?"  
He gestured her to follow and they went over to the small cubicle she called her 'shared office'. No one really used this place as an office. All the designers came in here to compare notes or get the latest news from the terminal, but no one had written his or her name on the always open door.  
"Habitat 4 is almost finished," Meuv told her. "Grrrrapple asked we give him the plans forrrrr numberrrrr 5."  
DJ rolled her eyes. Five was a problem area mainly because some idiot had thought he could design it as a botanical nightmare. The hydroponics team had thrown a fit, right after her, and Grapple had asked her to redesign. The organic races needed plants and flowers and all, but not in the way the original egg-head designer had thought of. Habitat 5 was supposed to be a farmland, an area to grow not only the vegetables and plants and flowers, but also raise the livestock. It was a big project, the most ambitious of them all, but she understood Optimus Prime. He wanted to accommodate the humans and this was one of the main problems humans had on a metal world: lack of nature.  
"I'll talk to him," she muttered, grabbed some folders and left. "This is a nightmare!"  
Meuv chuckled, a weird combination of clicking and wheezing. "You werrrre the one who wanted this Habitat."  
"Don't remind me."  
Both left the building and took the monorail to the construction area.

* * *

Ultra Magnus puzzled over the strange read-outs of energon he suddenly had on his scanners. One of the techs had discovered it and called him. Where was this concentration coming from? He punched a few keys and waited for the scanners to run a second  check. Maybe it was another hidden back-up generator. If so, it would be a lucky find.  
Speaking of back-ups....  
"Goldbug, what is the latest on the rerouted power lines?"  
Two days ago one of the power converters had blown, taking a net of power lines with it. The engineers had left everything standing and swarmed over to the broken plant, trying to set it up again. They needed power before anything else.  
The small Autobot carried a whole load of files over to the plotting table and dumped them there. "Working on them."  
Pipes joined them, his face dark and set into a grim mask. "I never saw such a messed-up place," he muttered and activated the holographic display of a complicated schematic.  
"What am I looking at?" Magnus asked.  
"This is a first-level depictation of our primary power plant. The only one working so far, approaching 90% output right now." Pipes pointed to the left side. "And that is the energy conversion unit and the recycling system which we got up and working 60% just a week ago, thanks to some of Riverdance's supplies. Between the two is the power conduit – which isn't working."  
Magnus frowned. "Still leaks?"  
"If it were only that!" Pipes growled, shaking his head. "Leaks we can close but the power lines are all so old and brittle that we get blows every intersection or two." He threw up his hands. "And the supplies we get are not what I need! The whole disaster with the second unit could have been averted if we had had new lines."  
"We are working on it," Goldbug muttered.  
Pipes shot him an amused look. "I know we have a shortage of all sorts of things, Goldbug. I'm not passing accusations around. I just wish I could get the parts I really, really need."  
What he had gotten through Riverdance and Jazz's deals with the raiders had given them a head-start on further problems, but having one problem solved still gave them about a dozen new ones to take care of. Ultra Magnus and Shockwave had given the duo of 'traders' his okay to get more necessary parts if their dealings were kept secret and in an acceptable frame. Riverdance had only flashed him a mysterious smile and dragged Jazz off to the shuttle bay.  
"I'll contact Optimus again," Ultra Magnus now promised.  
Pipes nodded. "I'll tell the guys. I just hope the power lines hold long enough. We might have another blow on hour hands soon otherwise."  
Magnus studied the schematics and sighed. "Just do what you can, Pipes."  
"That's all I can do anyway," the small engineer muttered and walked out again, followed by Goldbug.  
Ultra Magnus watched them, knowing they were right. He was setting more hope into getting supplies from Riverdance and Jazz than from Topside. They had to deal with a whole destroyed continent while Below was a half-finished, partly functional city. Priorities were priorities and though Below held many, it didn't hold all.

* * *

The Tji had roamed through the inner tunnels of Cybertron for a long time. The cloud-like body of the energy creature drifted around, searching. It was disguised by the fact that it read only as energon, not as a real living being. This way it had evaded detection through an old but respectable net of sensors all over the place. Finding surviving Tji on the former factory planet was hindered by this sole fact – that their bodies read like energon --, though somehow the Cybertronians had found a way to detect them. It wasn't a widely known system as it seemed because not all hunting teams used it, but it was efficient. Now he was hiding deep inside what was generally known as the Inner Maze, on the look-out for a new body shell. He had lost his old one in a fight against those Counterstrike teams -- curse them all the way to Oblivion -- and felt naked without an armor.  
The Tji began to move.

* * *

He stood in the giant chamber, looking at the strange emptiness, his fuel pump heavy with emotions he had yet to find a way to express. He turned a piece of dented metal over and over in his hands, staring at it as if he had never seen such a shard before. In a way he hadn't.  
Optimus Prime walked over to the small pedestal in the middle of the room which had survived the explosion of energy in a better shape than the rest. Some of the cable channels had been charred to an unrecognizable mass along with many of the connections to all the outside stations the room had been connected to. And then there was Vector Sigma. The super computer had been the only occupant of the room and now .... now he was dead. He had exploded, the protective metal ball torn apart by the force breaking out.  
Ralyk.  
Optimus felt a tremor pass through him and he closed his hand around the shard. With Vector Sigma his oldest friend, his creator and a kind of father figure – if robotic life forms could have them – had died. Alpha Trion .... his mentor. He wished Alpha Trion had given them the chance to help, but he had not. He had given his life so the personality cores could live. If he had gone back into his old body he would have left them out to die.... and Chaos and her team had not been fast enough to do both: get the personality cores into stasis fields and transfer Trion's 'ghost' back into his body shell.  
Yes, the body shell. Optimus had kept it in a stasis cylinder since the old robot had joined with the super computer. They had once discussed him returning into his shell, but Alpha Trion had refused. For whatever reasons. This refusal had cost him his life now.  
In a way, Ralyk had killed him. And it would have killed the personality cores as well if not for Trion. Then again.... as far as he had gotten to know the strange entity it had never really killed any of them. It had killed Tji, but none of the Cybertronians. Optimus believed that it would not have killed the unborn cores.  
It changed nothing about the fact that Alpha Trion was dead.  
Not that Optimus had felt rather friendly toward his old mentor lately. What they had discovered in the last years, the lies they had uncovered, put a serious dent into this friendship. Alpha Trion had deceived, lied, hidden and turned around too many facts too often. He had kept their past a lie, had let them stumble in the dark while they had thought their past was finally revealed. He had known about the future in many ways, had let Hot Rod run into his new life as Rodimus Prime, nearly destroying him psychologically. Optimus didn't mind his own death so much, but knowing that his death had destroyed a young Autobot by turning him into a Prime, confronting him with the burden like this, was enraging him.  
He had met Hot Rod in the past several times and he had seen the boy had held promise, but he would never have dreamed of pushing the Matrix into his hands and throwing him into a war like this, making him leader of a whole planet of people, pushing him to the edge and leave him tethering there. Hot Rod/Rodimus Prime had survived. Somehow. And he had grown stronger, learned and lived on, though deep inside had been an injured soul.  
Like inside Optimus Prime.  
He had been like Hot Rod, young, full of energy, interested only in fun and games .... and he had died and been reborn into Optimus Prime. Megatron had killed him. He had killed the youth and carelessness, Orion Pax, and he had created the serene and changed Optimus Prime; Bearer of the Matrix; Autobot leader.  
Optimus sighed deeply.  
If he wanted to he could blame everything on Megatron. The war had been started by him. Orion Pax had been his victim. Optimus Prime was his creation. It was a dark and depressing thought. Megatron had killed one person and created the other, quite unwillingly though, and Optimus had been shaped through the war. Every action of Megatron had triggered a reaction from Prime. They had been arch enemies, each trying to kill the other, each learning, each surviving.  
Until today.  
Like Optimus, Megatron had been killed and reborn, though his rebirth had been quite a drastic change. Galvatron had been a raving madman and it had been a lucky coincidence that he had been reshaped into Megatron.  
Thinking about his former enemy, Optimus had to smile a bit. So much had changed between them. Throughout the Cybertronian Wars he had come to respect the Decepticon leader in many ways. He had come to accept him as an individual, not just a war machine, and he had gotten to know him. They had even fought side by side against a common enemy two or three times, though nothing had changed afterwards. At least not visibly. Inside, Optimus Prime had added a new piece to his knowledge of the enemy commander and gained a new perception.  
Now they were allies.  
Maybe even more.  
Megatron, the reborn one, had still a lot of traits of the old one. Most of them even. But he had seen the necessity of an alliance to survive against an enemy so powerful it would have obliterated Cybertron and every Cybertronian. Every single one. This war had shaped the alliance in many ways, had given the Autobots a new view of the Decepticons and vice versa. They had learned to work together, had formed teams, had even grown wary friends.  
As had the commanders.  
Optimus Prime felt surprise course through him. Yes, he regarded Megatron as someone he might trust. He already had trusted him on countless occasions. He was a member of the Council, not only because he was the Decepticon leader, and he was in charge of getting Cybertron's devastated security and mostly destroyed defense back up. The alliance had survived the Tji War and it was growing stronger.  
Curious, he thought with a faint smile. Millennia of war.... and the near-obliteration of our whole race changed what war couldn't.  
Old hopes and objectives had been redefined, mainly into survival, and fighting with the former enemy had forged them all together. Many former lines that had never been crossed before had been stepped over.  
Optimus remembered the time down in the ruins of South Port. It had been another time of change, especially concerning his view on Megatron. A lot had been said; a lot had been revealed – a lot had been understood. Prime knew he would never mention what had been talked about to anyone. It had shown him a lot about Megatron and it helped him understand the Decepticon leader maybe even better now.  
Maybe? No.... Definitely.  
Thinking back to this he also stumbled over something he had not allowed himself to think of for some time. His own state of mind shortly after the last battle. He knew he had been walking the line between insanity and normality and that he had slipped once or twice. One of those slips had nearly cost his second-in-command his life.  
Prime shivered a bit.  
Something had happened then. He barely remembered it all. He knew it involved some off-line time, someone helping him ... and healing. Mel had been there. He remembered her very clearly, and he remembered her voice in his mind, telling him to relax, to let it happen.  
And something else.  
But what? The more he thought about it the less he could grasp this fleeting moment. He only knew that whatever had happened, it had mended his mind, though the old fears were still there. Now they were kept under control and were no longer a black mass of horror lurking in every shadow. Everyone had bad memories and everyone could handle them. So could he now.  
But who had been there with Mel?  
He knew he might never know, but he was thankful to whoever it was.  
Optimus Prime turned and slowly left the chamber, taking the shard with him. It meant old memories and maybe a new future.  
A hope.

* * *

"Where's Goldbug?" Springer asked.  
Ultra Magnus shrugged, optics pinned to the read-out screen. Springer walked over to the commander and peered at the screen.  
"Whazzat?"  
"I'm not sure, Springer. I picked up energon readings not far from here, as if part of the pipelines had burst. I sent out Hotspot, but he found no leaks or ruptures and the energon reading had also moved on. I lost it for some time and now it's back." Magnus rubbed his chin. "I traced it close by Delta Block II and then it was gone again."  
"Weird," Springer agreed.  
Delta Block II was where the labs had been installed and where Containment Unit 1 had been placed. It was under heavy security and no one could possibly break in.  
Magnus turned to look at Springer. "What was that about Goldbug?"  
"Oh, I'm just looking for him and can't find him anywhere."  
"I sent him Topside because we need some stuff and the com links are a bit unstable right now."  
"What else is new?" Springer sighed.

* * *

The Tji moved quickly through the empty tunnels, trying to get as much distance between himself and his last known position. Finally he settled down beside one of the energy converters. He trembled with exertion. They had nearly discovered him. Several non-Counterstrike robots had searched the area where he had been and he had had to retreat fast. Now he was safe, at least for a while, and he could think about what to do next. He seemed to be close to a settlement of Cybertronians. Perfect.....  
He decided to get his strength back first, then continue his search for a suitable shell. He was still too weak and undernourished to strike and win. He needed to find either a weak shell or a way to strike down the shell, incapacitate it for the moment, and then make his move.  
Suddenly he picked up faint energy patterns he recognized immediately. Matrix energy! Intriguing. Down here .....  
The Tji smiled dimly and settled back into recharging. The moment he was strong enough he'd go for the coordinates. Matrix energy was an interesting indicator of more interesting things to come.

* * *

IceAngel sat on one of the catwalks, transformed into her alternate mode, large claws holding her on the narrow bridge over countless metal pipes and cable channels. Her wings hugged her body, her skin color fluctuating, adapting her to her environment so she was completely absorbed in it. Her optics were dimmed, her head slightly tilted and only the occasional twitch of her tail told she was still on-line.  
IceAngel was listening. Watching....  
Her eyes and ears were the countless drones, guards and cameras in the Inner Maze. She had logged herself into the system down here and was searching. Something had entered the Maze and had begun to disrupt it. She wasn't sure what it was and how it could have slipped by her alarms, but she was intent on finding it.

* * *

Optimus Prime looked at Scrapper as the engineer and architect delivered the reports he had requested.  
"And these are the latest additions," the Constructicon now said and Prime looked at the schematics. "This is were all the heat, power and special environment for the aliens is generated. We can change the air in each quarter if necessary in case we get a new guest when an old one leaves."  
Aliens left every day, but some were here to stay a longer time. Their needs had to be taken care of. Prime had spent days after days studying the alien races and asking them for their needs.  
At first glance the schematics were a uncoordinated gathering of multi-colored lines and dots. Granted, at second look as well.....  
"Closed-cycle system," Scrapper told him. "It's self-regulating and we can generate almost any kind of environment within a few hours time. Some even quicker. Every alien has to wear a clipper as a precaution though, alarming him or her immediately when life-support conditions go  below optimum. But that won't happen. There are sensors in every room and the environment continually adjusts to the aliens' presence. Same goes for the human quarters. To keep heat and electricity waste down lights will go on and off automatically when someone enters. Same goes for heat."  
He looked almost proud, trying to suppress it though. Prime had to smile. All Constructicons were challenged by Below and Topside and sometimes separated from their usual team-up to pursue personal projects. Scrapper and Scavenger had found the Habitats a challenge all for their own.  
"Every single, major system is redundant. We can lose power, we can lose air, we can lose water entirely, and we will be fine until back-up kicks in," the Constructicon now added.  
"Thank you, Scrapper. Keep me posted."  
Scrapper nodded and the screen went dark.  
Good news, Prime thought with a pleased expression.  Finally.

* * *

"Confirmed," Runamuck said and listened to the reports coming in. "No movements."  
"Last reported position of the contact?" Shockwave wanted to know.  
"Seven-two-three. Heading toward the Habitats."  
Shockwave's single optic showed no flicker of emotion. They had yet to find out what this energy anomaly was but it wasn't a spontaneous and short-lived phenomenon. It moved, stayed or even grew in strength and it was circling around DB II. He didn't like it.  
"Inform Octane and Blitzwing. They are to move in."  
Runamuck nodded and opened a line to the two Decepticons in question.  
"Gone," Runabout suddenly said. "Whatever it was we picked up, it's gone. Maybe it was a malfunctioning power conduit again....."  
Shockwave looked at him. "Where did the anomaly disappear?"  
"Power generator one."  
"The order still stands. Send in Octane and Blitzwing."  
"Okay."  
Shockwave didn't believe in anomalies like this. Something about it was wrong, stirred his instincts that this wasn't friendly. Malfunctioning power lines registered differently and he had checked with the Tech Team. There hadn't been a problem in this particular area for a long time and everything was within the green perimeter.  
No, this was something else.

* * *

Blitzwing carefully stepped around the corner, weapon drawn, his whole body alert for any sign of danger or threat. But there was nothing at all. The corridor he now stood in was empty of every sign of life. Massive power lines ran overhead, cracked with age and the paint flaking off. Some of them had been repaired so often they seemed to consist only of patch-work. The light down here was meager and he hated the twilightish atmosphere.  
"Nothing," he muttered and opened a line to his partner. "Octane, this is Blitzwing. No sign of any intruder."  
"Same here," came the slightly muffled reply. "This is creepy."  
Blitzwing had to agree, though Octane was the one far easier spooked than he was. "Let's get back to Shockwave and report. Whatever those sensors picked up, it's not here. And it left no traces."  
Octane readily agreed and Blitzwing retraced his steps, not the first time wondering what the ancient Cybertronians had built this Maze for. And why no one had ever ventured down here. Security measure or not, a determined team of Decepticons would have easily been able to take those drones out, he mused.  
He left the rather unexplored area of the Maze and walked back to the Habitat sections, on the way meeting up with Octane. Blitzwing felt out of his job here anyway. He would rather be hunting Tji, but the latest problems in Below had required them to help out here. The other teams were having fun going after the enemy and he was stuck here. The world was unfair.

* * *

The tall silver robot walked down one of the hallways of West Central, long strides taking him past closed doors with various signs on them, mostly declaring the room behind the door to be either a lab, a generator room or a service center.  
He took an elevator down several levels and emerged into a different corridor, this one clustered with heavy security sensor pads and cameras. He approached a door labeled

Closed Area  
Authorized Personnel Only  
Beyond This Point

and pressed his palm against a portion of the wall beside the door.  
"Identification: Megatron," an androgynous voice said. "Please enter proper key and password."  
Megatron complied and when the green light lit up, the door slid open noiselessly.  
He entered the room, noting out of the corner of his optics that a small, black shadow was following him – as it had followed him since he had left the office. He had vowed not to take notice of the obnoxious shadow today and he wouldn't start now. Ignoring the furry little Nuisance he looked around. What he saw pleased him, though it could be better. Taking into account the resources they had and the devastating condition the whole system had been in though, this was more than he would have hoped for.  
"Soundwave, report!" he ordered.  
The communications expert gave him a short overview of the last updates on the security system and he clenched his jaw. They had had some backfires and a serious blow concerning planetary shields. Soundwave was still trying to access the bubble shields but had yet to find a trace of them somewhere. Megatron didn't believe that Ralyk had erased them completely. Something had to be there.....  
"Proceed," he now only ordered and walked over to his own station, a main control board from where he had access to every single other system and could call up progress reports of system status whenever he needed.  
The black Pest jumped onto his desk and curled up, innocent green optics blinking at him out of a furry face.  
One day, he vowed to himself. One day I'll blast this cat to oblivion!  
Then again, a small voice nagged him, he had sworn this several times before throughout the years and it had never happened.  
Megatron silenced the voice with a vicious snarl and turned to his task at hand. Planetary security was more important than this flea bag. Cybertron was currently a sitting duck and it was his job to change it.

* * *

The guardian drone moved through the dark tunnels, its green optics scanning silently for any kind of change from the normal. It stopped at an intersection where two power-lines met. It stood still for some time, finally moved closer, a whirring noise coming from inside. Then it moved on.

IceAngel frowned, her optics coming back to life.  
"Something is out there," she said calmly.  
Shockwave looked at the strange female. "Identification?"  
"Impossible. I can detect traces through the security and guard system, but I haven't been able to make contact."  
"Corporeal?"  
The guardian of the Inner Maze frowned again. "I don't think so. There are no visible traces anywhere. The places where you detected the energy surges are undisturbed by any physical presence."  
Shockwave was silent for a few seconds. "Energy surges," he then said. "The intruder can be detected by energy surges."  
IceAngel nodded. "So he must be made of energy as well."  
Their optics met.  
"Tji," was all the Decepticon said.

* * *

"Security?"  
"Check. Main system up."  
"Electrical?"  
"Check. Boot-up procedure without problems."  
"TelCom?"  
"Check. Main system up. Sub-systems operational but not optimal."  
Pipes groaned and thumbed through some files. "I thought someone had checked this!"  
"Don't look at me," Tracks replied levely. "I'm only here to go through boring lists with you."  
Pipes ignored him. Tracks had more or less volunteered to help in Below, to get away from the humans Topside, he had once mentioned briefly. Pipes knew that the death of Raoul Simone had hit his friend hard, but he was annoying in his ways – which he had been before but not as badly as he was now.  
"Get me in contact with Grapple or Hoist. I want to know what's happening to the TelCom systems."  
"I am not your personal operator," Tracks pointed out, but opened the com line anyway.  
Pipes shot him an annoyed look. "If you have any other duties, it would be no problem to do them now," he pointed out.  
Tracks rose and left. Pipes breathed a sigh of relief. Then he got on the line with Hoist, going through their latest problems.

* * *

The next days turned into weeks and Below was experiencing several more breakdowns before the main systems were finally up and running independently. Still, Ultra Magnus was very worried about an apparent Tji presence in the old Maze. The alien energy life form couldn't be found, even through extensive searching, and it was turning the Cybertronians on guard jumpy and likely to shoot at anything more alien than normal. It was time to act. Cyclonus and his Counterstrike team were now a familiar presence in the Maze. First Aid and Perceptor had finished the installation of the Containment Unit and it was part of Below, resting in its heavily secured chamber, safe from every outside influence. Currently First Aid was busy doing another check on the status of the personality cores.

*

POWER GRID F6  
COMMAND CANNOT BE EXECUTED  
ERROR -945  
"Tell me I'm not seeing this."  
Goldbug leaned over Pipe's shoulder. "You are not seeing this," he informed the engineer happily.  
Pipes groaned. "No, no, no!"  
Hoist, who had returned from the outskirts of Below from another construction job, walked over. "What's wrong?"  
Pipes gestured weakly at the monitor screen. "This! I can't believe it! I talked to Hook the other day and it was working! The Constructicons had it up and running perfectly! Now I can't access the status report, not to mention the controls."  
Hoist frowned. "Power Grid F6," he mused out loud, "that's...."  
"Close to Delta Block II," Goldbug piped in. "The Containment Unit."  
Hoist reached past Pipes and typed in a command.

WARNING: COMMAND EXECUTION ABORTED

flashed up on the screen and Pipes moaned as if in pain.  
Hoist's frown deepened and he keyed in another command.

AUX POWER LOW  
MAIN POWER OFF-LINE

was the answer.  
"Impossible!" he whispered. "We would have gotten an alarm if the power was suddenly off-line."  
"Not if something was still emitting energy signals," Pipes suddenly said, voice deadly calm.  
The three Autobots looked at each other in horror.  
"Tji!" Goldbug whispered.  
Hoist was already on the com.

* * *

The Tji had rested a long time, now and then changing his position, actually enjoying the game of hide and seek. The robots couldn't find him because he could blend in with the energy around him and he watched them in their fruitless search. It was amusing. But now he needed to act. It was time to get what he needed: a body shell. Since he wouldn't attack one of the stronger robots, he had watched and waited, keeping an eye on all the body shells available to him, singling out those he wanted. And he had lingered around the area displaying Matrix energy, identifying the source as a large sphere full of energy at his disposal.  
The Tji chuckled as he approached the heavily secured room. Security, right! There wasn't a place he couldn't enter because his body was not solid. It was energy and energy could pass through the slightest crack. And luck had it that his target body shell was also inside the very same room – with the door unlocked.  
A good day to start his revenge.  
Yes, indeed.  
And now .... for a little distraction.....

* * *

The alarm came in and was immediately transferred to Cyclonus, who was just about to go off duty and leave the night shift to Silhouette. All thoughts of going Topside were erased when he read the short message.  
"It's making its move," he growled.  
Silhouette's blue optics turned icy. "Where?"  
"The Containment area."

* * *

Water was one of the primary elements needed in Below, not only for the organic population but also as a way to cool down machines. Cybertron had once held a wide water-based transport system, ships floating in artificial channels from one port to the next, delivering their cargo. The old system had survived, though on a much smaller scale, but the water lines were present. The engineers of Below had tapped into one of those water supply basins and were drawing their water from there. Located in the heart of one of the Habitat areas it was like a gigantic dam behind which millions of gallons of water lay, running through pipes and assorted channels, cooling the machinery not cooled by air, used by aliens and humans alike, recycled after each time, a complete circle.  
No one had ever experienced any failure in the system. No one expected one. The recycling machinery was easy to handle, the distribution was done automatically, computers keeping track on volume, quality, speed and more, sensors in the dam checking on structural damage.  
One of the sensors sputtered into life for a micro-second, then died down. The engineer on duty didn't even see it.  
But he heard the sudden explosion.  
"What the....?"  
A rumbling noise could be heard, accompanied by crackling sounds, popping....sizzling.... thundering.  
The engineer hit the alarm button.  
And stared wide-eyed at the water front rising up in front of him just before it crashed down and drowned him beneath it.

*

Ultra Magnus whirled around. "What's going on?"  
"Water basin!" one of the techs shouted. "We have a leak! I repeat, we have a leak!"  
If he could have, Magnus would have paled. "Impossible! Why weren't warned?!"  
Humans and Cybertronians scurried around the command post, hectically trying to come up with information and launching help teams. The Protectobots were already on their way, missing only First Aid, who was in the Containment area.  
And the Containment area was currently cut off by the torrents of water breaking through......

*

DJ Witwicky was off duty and on her way back home when she heard the muffled explosion. She stopped, slightly alarmed. That had not exactly sounded like one of the construction blows..... and it had come from the wrong direction. And then she became aware of the rushing, thundering noise.  
"What...."  
She turned a corner and froze. A huge surge of water was rolling toward her. DJ's eyes widened, her mind suddenly working in split seconds, and she turned on her heels, trying to outrun the water. Her eyes darted around for something to climb up on and suddenly saw one of the stairwells leading to the catwalks.  
The water broke over her just as her hand closed around the handrail and hung on. The torrent pulled at her and DJ clung to the only support she had, desperation giving her strength. Her head came up and she gasped for air, swallowing a mouthful of water when the next surge hit. Then the first powerful wave of water was gone, she pulled herself up on the stairs, trembling with exertion, wet clothes clinging heavily to her shaking body.  
The water level was still rising.  
DJ drew on her last reserves of energy and climbed higher up toward the catwalk, only a few steps ahead of the water level.

* * *

"Sectors 3 and 7 flooded!" one of the techs called, making himself heard over the pandemonium reigning in the command center.  
Ultra Magnus only nodded and turned to the situation table. He had just heard from Shockwave and that there was most likely a Tji in the Delta Block area, which was now completely cut off from the rest of Below. Cyclonus and the Counterstrike forces were stuck, unable to get through even in flight mode because the only passage ways open to them were too narrow or too clotted with low-hanging beams, pipes and power lines. Silhouette had once called in to inform him that they were trying to find an alternative route now. He wished them luck.  
"Any word from HotSpot?" he asked.  
"Not yet," Springer said. "Last I heard of him he was busy evacuating one of the Habitat areas. They have difficulties working through the water masses. The Constructicons managed to close the leak for now, though."  
"Good, Keep trying to contact the Protectobots."  
Springer nodded and returned to his task.  
Ultra Magnus stared at the computer-generated graphic of the Habitat area, red color mercilessly displaying all the already flooded areas.  
'SAFETY 1 OFF' blinked on the side. 'STATUS CHECK RUNNING'.  
He didn't need to see the results. He had quite a good idea..  
Ultra Magnus didn't want to know how many lives had been lost already.... and how many would still be.

* * *

By the time DJ reached the top of the narrow catwalk, the water had risen halfway up her body. The whole level beneath her was completely filled with water and though it was no longer rising with the same speed, she was still in danger. She needed to get to safety somewhere!  
Wading through the coldness she suddenly spied another access to the next higher level. She thought she heard a sound in the distance but couldn't see a thing. Doubling her efforts, her body tired and cold, she made it to the metal ladder and started to climb, now and then slipping on the wet rungs. She reached the next level, this catwalk much larger than the one beneath her, apparently built so Cybertronians could use it as well.  
DJ was trembling by now, her teeth chattering, wet clothes clinging to her shivering body. She was safer here than before but she still wasn't out of danger. Right now the biggest danger she was in was hypothermia. She stumbled along the catwalk, trying to keep moving to at least insure some warmth, heading toward Below's center.

* * *

Silhouette squeezed her body through the narrow opening and splashed into the puddle of knee high water. She got up and watched Cyclonus to the same, the paint on his shoulder scraping off as he had to wriggle through an almost too tight hole. His red optics burned with barely suppressed anger at the situation but this was the only way.  
"Ready?" Sil asked.  
He didn't answer, just walked quickly along the water-filled corridor.  
"Charming as ever," she muttered in amusement, the followed.

* * *

IceAngel, used to the Inner Maze and all its hidden passage ways, had found her own bridge across the water masses, now flying toward the Delta Blocks. Her eyes and ears, the security system, had told her what had happened and she felt partly responsible for it. The Tji had evaded their every sweep and now it had struck.  
Anger boiled inside at her.  
Thoughts of revenge were born. Revenge for the destruction of her doorway, the death of her Sentinel friend and his partner, and her own pain.  
The Tji would die.

* * *

DJ had collapsed against the wall looming up before her. It was one of the larger container homes, connected to the catwalk, a closed door denying her entrance into what she feverishly thought to be a nice and warm environment. Beneath her, water gurgled, a black and bottomless depth to her freezing mind. She was so cold....  
It didn't help that Cybertron as such was a rather cold place. Below was like a cavern, always cool, never warming up enough to feel comfortable in. Her aunt Melissa had once compared it to an eternal chilly autumn day. The Habitats were closed environments and temperature-controlled for the organic life, but since robots were less sensitive to slight temperature shifts in a ten degree Celsius range, the outside was indeed cool. Every organic not accustomed to permanent chills wore an environmental suit that kept the body temperature in check. DJ was wearing one – but it was soaked. It had not been developed as a diver's suit.  
She tried to push the heavy door open, but failed once again. She cursed softly and huddled against the wall, wishing she could think of a way out of her predicament.  
Suddenly something loomed up over her and she gave a strangled gasp of surprise. Light reflected off the dripping wet body and a small cascade of water gushed down the broad shoulders and the arms, splashing back into the sea beneath her.  
"Hi, DJ. Care for a ride?"  
"Jazz?" she managed.  
Jazz grinned. "The one and only."  
"How .... how did you find me?"  
Jazz pointed one finger at her chest area. "The amulet. Once in a while it comes in handy." He lifted her gently.  
DJ laughed in relief and amusement. Yes, the amulet. It was out of her time as a rather energetic teenager. It was a homing device. Her parents had given it to her so they could locate their daughter when she was on one of her exploration tours again. Jazz had been the one keeping an eye on her most of the time.  
She had never taken it off. As a child she had been unable to because it was locked with a special mechanism so she couldn't get rid of it and she couldn't tear it off either. The metal was too resistant. Now she wore it as a good luck charm. It had brought her luck today....  
Jazz carried the shaking, slightly hypothermic human to the hurriedly set up shelters where all the organics were coming together, handing her over to the care of the doctors, then walked off again to find more survivors. His mind had been lifted of a terribly burden when he had found DJ alive. Now it was time to help others.

* * *

The Tji hovered in the corner of the chamber and smiled. So much Matrix energy.... not controlled by a sentient being to strike at the Tji. All his. All his own. He watched the body shell he had chosen as his temporary home move around the globe and closed the distance.  
Suddenly the door was flung open, nearly bouncing of the heavy steel wall. The target turned.  
"Silhouette? Cyclonus? What....?"  
"Get out of here, now!" the purple colored one ordered harshly.  
The second robot, a female, suddenly looked into his direction and the Tji wondered how she could have found him so quickly. Then again, he knew her to be one of the Counterstrike forces. They had developed a sixth sense for Tji hunting.  
"It's here!"  
The Tji made its move. Now or never.  
It swooped toward its target and reached out with one tentacle, touching the red and white robot.

First Aid was puzzled by Silhouette and Cyclonus' arrival. He turned toward them, the sphere behind him, panels open.  
And then he felt something touch him.  
It was cold.  
It was slimy.  
It was invading his body.  
He was paralyzed with fear.  
Silhouette gave a roar of protest, launching herself at the medic while transforming into her raptor mode. She slammed into him, throwing them both to the ground. The tentacle snapped away from him with a rubbery sound. Silhouette turned immediately, snarling at the enemy, eyes a bright blue, flexing her claws.  
The Tji moved back a bit, hovering, then lashed out again. Silhouette felt the sizzling sting of its tentacle as it drew over her snout and she roared, snapping her jaws around the offending tentacle. She knew she had no chance to permanently hurt the Tji, but they had found out what stung over the course of the years and several close encounters had taught the Counterstrike teams a few moves. The tentacles were still energy but they were a bit more vulnerable to physical force.  
Cyclonus fired several shots at the Tji and it howled, moving back, trailing tentacles. First Aid lay on the ground, shivering, his armor slightly dented where Sil's claws had slammed into him.  
The fight was unfair, mainly because the Tji wasn't the least bit impressed by what the opposition could throw at him. Energy weapons had no other effect that to make it even more mad. It moved back toward the Containment Unit, hissing and sizzling. Cyclonus joined his team mate in protecting the intended target, Sil still in raptor mode.  
And then a new player stepped into the room.  
IceAngel's ever-shifting body color was once completely calm and unmoving. She seemed to reflect the silver light of the sphere, mixed with the whitish gleam of the energy creature. Her optics fixed on the enemy and she growled softly. She was not immune to a take-over, but as a former Gatekeeper she was still more powerful than any of the present Cybertronians. Twilight had once killed a Tji and then blown up the rest of the army through suicide. She didn't plan to kill herself, just to pour enough of her energy into her opponent to blow him apart.  
Transforming into her robot mode she hissed a challenge and then stepped forward.  
Two more Counterstrike members appeared, Calamity and Overload. Both looked a bit wet and dirty, but both were ready to tango with the enemy. They stopped dead in their tracks at the scene.  
"What's she doing?" Overload hissed.  
"I have no clue, but whatever it is, it can't get worse! That thing is right in front of an open panel, hot bot!" Calamity snarled, weapon trained on her target but not daring to fire one shot.  
Cyclonus tried to stop the alien robot, but Silhouette held him back. His glare glanced off her, as usual.  
"She knows what she is doing," the female Dinobot said.  
"I hope so," he only growled.

IceAngel smiled coldly, something only the Tji could see. Then she unleashed a stream of her energy. The Tji screamed as the first tentacles lashed toward it and tried to tie it down. Wherever her energy touched, the Tji's body sizzled and steamed. Gatekeepers had their own ways to defend themselves. True, if she were facing more than one Tji she would most likely lose, but she would be able to take at least one with her. The Tji roared and fought back, but the more it fought, the more it was entwined in the tentacles.  
IceAngel felt a tremor run through her body. This was slowly starting to strain her systems. More tentacles wrapped themselves tightly around whatever part of the Tji they could grasp and the sizzling noises increased. IceAngel's optics flared and she heard a gasp from her spectators as the tentacles started to pull the Tji toward her.  
In a desperate attempt the Tji broke free of the grasp and lunged at the nearest robot. Overload was flung aside, hitting Calamity, and both hit the wall behind them, breaking down in a tangled heap. Energy arched over their bodies.  
"Oh no, you don't!" IceAngel whispered.  
The Tji wailed as new tentacles got a hold of it and began to pour even more energy into its already painfully overloaded body. And then it bloated into a gigantic balloon of energy -- and exploded.  
It was a soundless explosion, followed by an audio-shattering shriek. IceAngel broke down and fell to her knees, her body trembling from the exertion, her optics shut off. Cyclonus approached her carefully, almost warily, but when her optics lit up again and she didn't show any graying of the skin he stopped.  
"Are you functional?" he asked almost emotionlessly.  
"Kind of," she whispered a reply.  
"Is it dead?" Silhouette wanted to know as she joined her team mate.  
IceAngel tilted her head as if listening to something. Finally she nodded. "Yes, I think it is."

* * *

A catastrophe had been averted but too many lives had been lost. Ultra Magnus sat in his office, staring at the reports, wishing he could stop counting the names of those who had died in the flood. It was impossible. For the first time he thought he could relate to the Primes. They had had to deal with things like this for decades while the commanders and lieutenants only delivered the bad news but were never responsible for them. Now he had this responsibility for Below and those deaths weighed on him. Many had been saved by the fast help that had been dispatched to them, but many had died in this cold and wet grave. The damage had been repaired, the Habitats were almost back to fully operational again, but this meant nothing compared to the lives lost.  
Someone knocked softly, almost hesitantly at the door and he looked up, discovering Jazz. He collected himself, pulling his mind together.  
"Yes?"  
"Uhm, Riv and I are leaving for another fun ride," the specialist said gingerly. "Was just checking if you had any special orders...."  
Ultra Magnus summoned a smile. "No, thank you, Jazz."  
Jazz remained standing in the doorway. "Magnus, listen, what happened .... wasn't your fault, man. It was that damn Tji!"  
Ultra Magnus looked at him for a long time. "Maybe, Jazz, but it feels like it. You better go now before Riverdance leaves without you."  
Jazz grinned but only half his heart was in it. "She'd never start the party without her lead man, Magnus!" Then he grew serious again. "And I mean it with the responsibility." Then he was gone.  
Ultra Magnus closed the file so he didn't have to look at it, but the numbers turned over and over in his head. There was no escape.  
How do the Primes handle it? he asked silently.  
Probably like everyone else, was the answer.  
Deal with it.  
Face it.  
Don't hide.  
Don't let it crush you.  
And then go on with your life.  
Easier said than done, he knew. Much easier.

* * *

First Aid sat in the Below medical center and sighed deeply. Physically he was fine and mentally he was just about to lose the terrible feeling of this Tji touching him. Silhouette had dented his armor a bit but no breaches had been found.  
"Sorry about that," Sil said and smiled at the medic.  
"Oh, no problem." First Aid brushed over a spot of new paint. "Better a few bruises than what other choice I would have had."  
Silhouette nodded. Her raptor head had been singed a bit but it was nothing but superficial damage. She would go Topside soon. First Aid had decided to remain here. He needed to check on the Containment Unit. Except for a few burns there seemed to be nothing wrong. Hopefully.  
First Aid slid off the examination table and left the medical center, passing by several of the cubicles where the flood victims were treated. He wanted to see after the checks on the Containment Unit.

* * *

DJ looked at the devastation around her. Well, it would take some work to get this all back to normal and it wasn't her job. She still had to work on the Botanical Nightmare (tm) as she thought of it. Meuv had come out of the flood disaster completely undisturbed and it was a source of strength for her. Right now they were taking the just recently repaired monorail to the assigned area. DJ flipped through what the other desginer had once put down on paper and had to suppress a sigh.  
Amateur.  
At least this would take her mind off the near-catastrophe. That and her aunt's promise to come down in a week and pick her up for a three day vacation Topside. She couldn't wait. Days off spent with Mel were always fun.

* * *

SYSTEM READY  
PLEASE SPECIFY COMMANDS

First Aid hacked several commands into the small computer and watched the system run a self-check. He reset some grids that seemed to have taken light damage, but the overall appearance was rather good.

ACTIVATING SECURITY LOCKS

Pipes entered the room, off-duty since ten minutes ago, and watched his friend work. "Any serious damage?"  
First Aid looked up. "No. Some slightly stressed circuits but no hull stress or damage."  
"Well, some good news. Ultra Magnus is driving everyone insane with his orders to rebuild everything and I think Optimus paid him a visit an hour ago, supposedly to calm him down." Pipes shrugged. "I know a lot of damage was done and that many aliens lost their lives, but Magnus takes this too personally."  
First Aid nodded. "I know." He closed the panel and gave the silver globe a once-over. "I'm done here. I want to get back Topside to check on some more stuff."  
The two scientists walked out of the room and locked it, setting the security grid on.

 *

He was dying.  
Floating.  
Myriads of his parts drifting lazily through the nothingness, colliding gently with the small balls of concentrated energy. Sometimes parts clung to the balls, sometimes they even merged.  
His awareness dimmed.  
Melting into the nothingness, soaked into the small parts, absorbed by the energy globes.  
He faded.  
But his anger remained.  
Multiplied into the fragments of himself -- growing to be part of the energy balls.  
Waiting to be reborn.


End file.
